


Meet In a Harbour

by Pyrasaur



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Ghost Sex, Identity Issues, Kink Meme, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrasaur/pseuds/Pyrasaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sissel just couldn't bring himself to regret it. After all, he cheered a lady up after saving her life. Couldn't really argue with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet In a Harbour

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ghost Trick kink meme on Livejournal. The prompt was, **"Third time Lynne dies, Sissel and Lynne have some fun sexy times."** Probably intended to be PWP random smut, being a kink meme prompt and all. But I wondered if it was possible to fit that prompt into canon and have it actually work and somehow not come off as bestiality. Then I folded my arms and said, " _Challenge accepted._ "

     Thinking back, Sissel couldn't give clean definitions to everything that happened. He was pretty sure he had committed wrong acts -- he knew enough about humans now to get that crawling sensation. But his acts led to things turning out better. How could anything be wrong if it made the world a better place? How could he have sat there and done nothing instead? Sissel had even cheered somebody up after saving her life. Couldn't really argue with that.

     When he closed his eyes -- as a cat now or as an imagined man then, it didn't matter -- he could feel the world. The blue glow of energy and presence. The shapes of metal and wood and cloth. The vibrations of living things, hearts hammering in the dark. Sissel figured that was what got him, back in that basement. He had only known Lynne for hours but he just kept deciding to help her when she shivered and worried and feared, because that was the only decent thing to do. 

     She laughed when she died for the third time. Claimed she was used to it, which made Sissel's human expression go slack with surprise. Strange girl. He hadn't thought much farther than that, at the moment. He focused instead on the motions of objects and how to stop them.  
     When it was all undone and the gun failed to fire, he felt better. Accomplished. And Lynne had thanked him with sadness heavy in her downcast eyes. 

     He wasn't finished, Sissel knew then. She still needed him. Even when she pointed out the guardian promise Sissel had never exactly made, and smiled again, Lynne still shivered in the truth-lit emptiness of the ghost world. Maybe she was scared now, belatedly. She just kept watching and feeling herself die, after all. Sissel couldn't rewind her mind. He could imagine how the cumulative presence of death would get to a person, after it all sank in.

     He didn't exactly step closer -- ghosts didn't have feet to step with. He just sort of ... _was_ closer to her and Lynne was quick to close the gap, grabbing him, clinging. It was a shock straight to his soul -- and a melting reassurance, the way her presence echoed a future heartbeat now, the way she crackled close. She didn't seem to care about the spots Sissel's image wafted faint because he couldn't remember.  
      _It's cold here,_ she said, carved into his memory forever. _Don't you think it's cold?_  
      _Not really,_ he said, deciding whether to put his arms around her. _I'm dead, remember?_  
      _That's not what I mean._  
     Oh, _well_ then, he had thought. And he went ahead and held her, drifting there in the quiet, velvet red. It was nice, having someone there, feeling less alone.

     Time didn't exist in the ghost world. Even if it did, he couldn't have said how long they stayed like that, two flames twined for warmth. Lynne sighed and shifted and all of a sudden, slender fingers ran electric over his skin, down his back.  
      _Oh,_ she squeaked, yanking her touch away. _Ghosts can do that? Go through each other's clothes?_  
      _Strangely enough, it hasn't come up_ , he muttered. Ideas stirred in him -- half-supposed thoughts about changing his ghostly form at will. That touch along his back seemed encouraging enough, stirring contented feelings up from his memory void.  
     Lynne hummed. She replaced her hands careful, sinking ten gentle fingers through his clothing, tracing his ribs. _Sissel … Do you mind?_  
     He smiled wider. _I'm still here, aren't I? Hey, fair's fair. What are you hiding under that coat, huh, lady?_  
     It really was that easy to sink one presence into another, slip his long-fingered hands under the not-there layers of cloth and find her true born self. Lynne grinned bright, and she shivered along the lines his fingers drew.  
      _I'll never talk! You're just going to have to drag it out of me._

     Among the forgotten heaps of things, Sissel couldn't remember ever being with a woman -- but she probably wouldn't have been a ghost, anyway. He supposed he'd just have to figure it out. Jump in and give it a try. Actually, he was glad Lynne seemed to know exactly what she wanted -- and she wasn't shy to nudge his hands, either. Motions stirred rising sensations and he could have sworn those feelings caused motion, a wavering in breeze, an amplifying of each other.  
      _It's a bit different than usual,_ Lynne laughed, _Isn't it?_  
      _I hope that's a rhetorical question._  
      _Oh, come on, Sissel. We're not solid. You know what I mean._  
     She may not have been solid but she was bright against him, all contact, fingers playing up the back of his head. Sissel wondered what Lynne would smell like, skin and hair and smouldering ambition, if the two of them could live and breathe at the same time. He took more of the contact instead. Another pass of palms down her slim-curved form and she shuddered answer, and rocked tighter against him.  
      _Could you do that thing with your fingers?_  
     Could she have been a little more specific?  
      _You did it just a second ago! That thing-- Yeah, that._  
      _I don't have fingers, you know. We don't have any of the body parts we're using right now._  
      _Ugh, Sissel!_ She hid her grinning face against his chest but he knew it anyway. _Quit nitpicking!_  
      _He_ was nitpicking? Well, he thought with silver shivers, he'd let it slide this once.

     It was a tangle of sensation after that. Two bodies, as much as they could be called that, and the soft sounds Lynne made, and disjointed thoughts and a feeling of filling, satisfying calm. Sissel grew sure that this in particular had never happened. Whatever this small shelter was.  
     Lynne shifted against him, fitting her head tighter under his chin. He wondered what they looked like, disappearing through each other's phantom clothes, wound together like they knew each other.  
      _Feeling better,_ he asked?  
      _Yeah … Thanks._  
     She thought that she _could get to really, really like this guy_. Thought it loud and clear. Well, Sissel thought, he could get to like her a lot, too.

     Four minutes later, she sat in the dark basement swinging her crossed ankles, thinking. Her life beat steady in her flesh-and-bone body. And then she spoke his name like an experiment, and thrummed with joy when he answered. Maybe they couldn't make promises, but they could trust each other anyway. Two loners together. It was a feeling Sissel found soft and comfortable and he wished he knew why.

     He kept looking out for her. Complained about it sometimes, but never regretted a thing.

     No, Sissel thought now, laying his head on his paws -- he didn't have anything to feel bad for. He wouldn't undo those minutes for anything. He curled in on himself, laying his tail over his nose. He napped and he dreamed about a place where he wasn't sure what kind of creature he was and it didn't matter.

     Lynne stopped by, later that day, bringing a package that crackled enticing. Sissel held his tail high, mewing hello -- and Lynne still smiled at the sight of him. An expression he appreciated now, a story spreading across her human face. In this present, Lynne picked up his flesh form and held it to her own, pillowed by her chest, sheltered under her chin.  
     "Hey, Sissel," she said, a gentle vibration in her throat. "It's good to see you, too! They had catnip-filled toys at the pet store. Want to try one out?"  
     Sure, Sissel thought, purring. He wouldn't mind that at all.


End file.
